Black Poetry : The Laodicean Age (The Weeping Prophet)

i have so much to say
but no one will listen
i have so much to say
but no one will listen

the streets have become the fertile ground of modern parentage
young girls and little boys raised by a degenerated age
a political system that is controlled by the dragon’s seven headed crowns
nothing available for the down trodden so they smile with crooked frowns
a person’s sexuality is said to be like unto the color of my skin
the infidelity of this subjective truth burns my heart from within
people sell their souls in an age that is constantly changing
nothing is stable in this world everything is always rearranging
the sins of the father are passing down to the sons and mother’s to their daughters
the blind search to quench their thirst but they drink from contaminated waters
the workforce is spending their money on things that can never satisfy
the whore sits atop the seven hills and tells her harlots to pacify
men are sleeping with the enemy and aborting their destiny’s
questioning the origin of GOD not knowing their fulfilling prophecies

i have so much to say
but no one will listen
i have so much to say
but no one will listen

little girls trained to be women and dress like harlots
young boys trained to be murderers with hands as red as scarlet
the corpses of would be pioneers of the new movement lie in the streets
the called out and chosen have love waxed cold because of personal defeats
the writing is on the wall but everyone is marrying and remarrying
but the ancient truth no one is truly carrying
the blind minister promises prosperity for a blind and naked sheep
the Lord is disgusted by this and the prophets have begun to weep
He knocks on the door because he is not in the building but they keep building
million dollar organizations but their will to His Spirit they are not yielding
mega choirs raise their voices in disdainful melodies
while the object of their adoration says “take that noise away from me”